Well if this is part of new AD Paul Miller’s plan to shake up the Orange Tree, he’s certainly succeeding. Like the Hampstead audience and Wildfire last week, the OT regulars were visibly hating this play (something that’s hard to avoid with them on all sides). It remains to be seen if a new audience replaces them; Friday night was far from full, despite excellent reviews.
It’s hard to describe because I didn’t fully unravel it. We appear to be in the future. Zeppo, a man in underpants and parka, claims to own most of Manchester, including the inner city island of Pomona with only one way in and mysterious goings on. Ollie is looking for her lost sister. Charlie, who is obsessed with covering the world with his sperm (!), is hosting role play parties that no-one attends, except Keaton. There’s organ and baby harvesting and other incomprehensible events. If there was an intelligible story, I didn’t find it.
They’ve created a square swimming pool-like pit with a drain in the middle, and the action takes place in and around it. The trouble with this is that if you’re downstairs and not in the front row, the sight-lines are dreadful and you have to stretch and turn and even then you miss stuff completely. The lighting and sound create the atmosphere of the piece and the performances are fine. I just couldn’t engage with it and it was a very long 100 minutes without an interval.
I’m sure it means more to someone younger, and in particular to a gamer, but it certainly doesn’t have universal appeal. I couldn’t help thinking about the Almeida’s Mr. Burns. I was outraged when they lost their Arts Council grant and I admire Paul Millers intentions, but it seems to me this might be running before they can walk, far too radical at the beginning of a transition – I’m not even sure Richmond will ever be the place for the cutting edge.
Not for me, I’m afraid.
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